


Not Quite There

by Thyra279



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Dreaming, Fluff, Happy Ending, Multi, Other, Pining, Vignette, Wishful Thinking, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27562591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thyra279/pseuds/Thyra279
Summary: It's a fantasy, a far-off dream and he knows it, watching Aziraphale look dutifully right and left before crossing the street, taking care to avoid as many of the endless puddles and heaps of horse dung of New York as possible. He's so careful, the angel, and yet a dark fleck of mud lunges at him from the wheel of a carriage and settles in those white little curls at the back of his head. Crowley takes a half-step towards him to wipe it off but stops himself for once. He has to.Written for the GOSH Guess The Author challenge.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 50
Collections: SOSH - Guess the Author #08 "dream"





	Not Quite There

It's a fantasy, a far-off dream and he knows it, watching Aziraphale look dutifully right and left before crossing the street, taking care to avoid as many of the endless puddles and heaps of horse dung of New York as possible. He's so _careful_ , the angel, and yet a dark fleck of mud lunges at him from the wheel of a carriage and settles in those white little curls at the back of his head. Crowley takes a half-step towards him to wipe it off but stops himself for once. He has to.

He _has_ to. Has to stay here. Has to watch him walk away again, knows he _must_ as the angel would say if he ever said anything about it at all, and he knows that Aziraphale _has_ to walk away, has to be the one to keep them safe, keep them unsaid and undone and just on the right side of _not quite_.

He _knows_ Aziraphale would rather stay here too, knows it from centuries of his little glances and his not-quite-touches and his- oh his _smiles_. He knows he can't trust himself to do what Aziraphale does, keep them safe and able to do this and _almost there_ , even if _almost there_ feels like _not there_ sometimes. And he _knows_ those smiles are just for him, a gift just for him, but the angel smiles at everyone and sometimes Crowley wonders if there's really anything more in those smiles he smiles just for him at all, but he _has_ to trust it, _has_ to trust Aziraphale, that one day- well, one day-…

He _knows_ it's a far-off dream, a fantasy, that there'll never be that _one day_ , knows he's in for an eternity of this, of watching Aziraphale walk away measured and smiling, that he'll have to be content to read his own frustration in the tightness of the angel's shoulders while the humans build up this mad city, while it rises and falls apart again, like all those before and those after, for millennia to come. And it's _fine_ , it is, it's so much better than the alternative, than if he never got those almost and nearlys and not quites, than if he'd never known the playful, bastardly, endlessly clever side of his angel that lets them do these things at all.

And it is SO much better than if they ever went all the way to where Crowley can't help but push for and _they_ found out, but he still longs, he _longs_ to go after him, longs to pause time and leap on to the street and shout his name-

"NNZIRAPHALE!"

"- _Crowley_!" There's a hand on him, a hand on his arm, rustling him gently but firmly, very real and warm under the- under the _covers_ , someone hugging him close and kissing his neck. "It's the middle of the night, darling, you'll wake up the whole of South Downs and how am I _ever_ supposed to read if you keep kicking me, hmm?"


End file.
